


Skidoo

by vaudevillian_villainess



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Erica and Boyd are alive, First Time Bottoming, M/M, Spanking, boyd is also overprotective, de-aged!Peter, peter's still kinda creepy, scott's overprotective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaudevillian_villainess/pseuds/vaudevillian_villainess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter has been de-aged and is staying with the Argents.  He is utterly disrespectful to Chris, so he decides to teach Peter a lesson.  But, like everything else in their lives, nothing goes quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Skidoo

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt: _Petopher! de-aged peter getting in chris's face and chris snaps and takes it out on his virgin ass_
> 
> I hope you like, dear anon!  
> (As for the title, I was listening to 'Skidoo' by Celtic Woman while I was trying to think of a title...it seemed to fit, so, there you go!)
> 
> [[my tumblr](http://vaudevillian-villainess.tumblr.com/)]

It was common knowledge that one day, Peter’s gift with weaving words and spewing out pernicious remarks would get him in trouble. They always thought it would get him in trouble with their Alpha, Scott McCall, though. Unfortunately, however, they were wrong. So wrong it wasn’t even funny. Alright, maybe it was a little funny…

*.*.*

“How was I supposed to know that cantankerous old crone was a witch?” Peter asked, arms crossed and a grumpy expression on his face. The pack looked at him, their faces showing various degrees of shock and exasperation. Stiles was the first to speak.

“Dude! She, like, had a WART on her nose and it was hooked and crooked! Her eyes were almost black and she freaking CACKLED! She was a textbook fairytale witch! How could you not figure that out?!” Stiles asked, arms flailing all over. Peter rolled his eyes in disinterest.

“Most times, fairytales hold little to no truth. I mean, yes, werewolves exist, but not like the ones in fairytales. I mean, Stiles, you’re a witch! Certainly not like any out of a fairytale,” Peter sniped. Stiles pursed his lips and crossed his own arms. Scott clapped a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder before addressing Peter.

“Look, now that you’re...de-aged...” Scott started. “I mean, you’re a teenager now, like the rest of us, so you’ll need to...well, you’ll need to stay wi-”

“No.” 

Scott looked surprised. “What?”

“I said no!” Peter snapped. “I’m a grown man, I can-”

“Actually, you’re not. You’re a teenager again, Peter, at least in appearance, meaning you need to be looked after by a guardian.” Lydia stated matter-of-factly. Peter was going to argue with her, but she raised an eyebrow and he sighed.

“Fine. Who do I get to stay with?” Peter asked, looking around at his pack. His eyes stopped on Stiles. “Perhaps our little witchling?” Peter leered. Stiles couldn’t even respond before Scott’s arm was around his side, pulling him close and flashing those red Alpha eyes at the older...well...younger, now, wolf. Peter scoffed and silence fell over the group as they thought of potential gaurd(ians). Finally, Allison spoke up.

“He can stay with my dad and I,” she volunteered.

*.*.*

That was how they’d ended up at the Argent residence. Allison knew her father was home and she thought that her and Peter looked enough alike to possibly pass as cousins, so she figured why not? As long as her dad was okay with it…

“Absolutely not.” he said, voice firm. Peter felt a little shiver go through him but listened closely as Allison pleaded his case.

“But dad, he’s pack! Plus, him and I look enough alike that people would just think we’re cousins! He needs a place to stay and Derek still has another month in Mexico visiting Cora and forging an alliance with her new pack. He can’t stay with Stiles because he’s creepy, Scott would sooner kill him, as would Lydia and Erica. Isaac is petrified of him and if anyone scares Isaac, Boyd threatens them!” Allison explained. Chris merely raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t ever be a lawyer, sweetheart, you’d never win a case.” he said. Allison glared at him.

“He’s pack, dad, and he needs a place to stay.” 

“I said no and that’s final.”

Allison took a deep breath. “I wasn’t going to do this, I hate doing this,” she said. “But I am the head of the Argent Family. I’m overruling you and Peter is staying here.” Chris opened his mouth, but Allison beat him to the quick: “Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes. Peter is unable to protect himself right now, so we will protect him.”

Chris sighed and furrowed his brow. He smiled softly at his daughter. “You sound just like your mother...okay. Okay, we’ll look after him, but only until Derek gets back, assuming his condition lasts that long.” Allison gave him a small smile in return.

“Thanks dad.” He nodded his head. 

“PETER! Come on in. We’ve got rules to go over.”

*.*.*

Chris was going to kill someone. Possibly himself, possibly Peter, possibly both. It didn’t really matter, because either way, someone would die.  
It had been a month and a half since Peter had been turned into a teenager. A sassy, sarcastic, snotty, douchebag, smirk-wearing, son-of-a-bitch teenager. Chris was ready to tear his own hair out, including the hairs that made up his beard. For a month and a half, he’d been dealing with Peter’s refusals to help out, keep clean, go to school. A month. And a half. Of sassy back talk and know-it-all attitudes and even some conspiring with his daughter! Luckily for him, Lydia and Erica, her girlfriends, quickly put a stop to that, due to their dislike of Peter. But for Chris, the torture was never-ending. He couldn’t take one more-

“I’m home geezer! What are you making for dinner?” that voice, that irritating voice! [That’s it!] Chris thought. With determination in his eyes, he stormed into the living room where Peter was now sat, feet propped up on the coffee table...his shoes still on.

“Feet off the table, shoes off at the door.” Chris said for the thousandth time. Peter smirked at the television, not even glancing at Chris.

“No.” he said simply, perusing the channels to find something entertaining. Once he’d finally settled on a show and set the remote down, Christ swiftly picked it up. He shut the TV off and pulled Peter up off the couch by his forearm. “HEY! Chris, what are you doing?” Peter demanded. When they were finally face to face, Chris picked him up and threw him over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “CHRIS!” Peter yelled. He was stunned into silence when a hand landed on his ass, a resounding CRACK! filling up the stairwell.

“Mr. Argent.” Chris said as he entered his room and flung Peter onto the bed.

“What?” Peter asked, his face displaying his confusion. Chris rolled up his sleeves slowly.

“I’ve been telling you to call me Mr. Argent for the past month and a half. I’ve been telling you to clean up after yourself for a month and a half. I’ve been telling you to contribute to the chores, go to school, take of your shoes, and not put your goddamn feet on my coffee table for a month and a half.” Chris said, his voice eerily calm. The older man sat on the bed, grabbed Peter’s ankle, and yanked him towards the edge. “And for a month and a half, you haven’t been listening to me. Well, that ends now.” Chris pulled Peter over his lap. He made sure the boy’s feet hit the floor and checked his arms, which were clinging desperately to the edge of the blanket. “Stretch them to the floor,” he said.

“W-what? Why?” Peter stammered. Chris sighed before yanking Peter’s pants and boxers down in one go. He raised his hand and slapped Peter’s ass. Peter yelped and fell forward.

“Because having both your feet and hands on the floor will help give you balance while I spank you.” Chris explained. 

“WHAT?” Peter exclaimed.

“Since nothing else seems to be working, I figured I’ll try spanking you. Maybe that will get the message through to your head to listen to me.” Chris took his left arm and braced it on Peter’s back. “To hold you still,” he said when Peter squirmed. “Now, I’m thinking twenty should do just fine. Y-”

“Twenty?” Peter squeaked, for as he spoke, Chris slapped his ass again.

“Don’t interrupt, it’s rude. And yes, twenty. You will count them. Lose track and I start over. Understood?” Chris asked. Peter remained silent. “You may speak.”

“Yes…” Peter said uncertainly. Chris arched an eyebrow.

“Yes…?”

“Um...Yes Mr. Argent?” Peter answered, albeit hesitantly. Chris smiled and patted Peter’s bottom lightly.

“Good boy. Now, don’t forget to count and keep track.” Chris reminded him. Peter opened his mouth, a witty reply on his tongue but it was quickly silenced when Chris’ hand came down and smacked him. He almost swallowed his tongue. “What number was that?” Chris asked. 

“O-one,” Peter stuttered. He dug his fingers into the carpet as Chris petted his ass.

“Good boy,” Chris cooed, his tone a little patronizing. He lifted his hand and spanked Peter again, punching out the ‘two.’

*.*.*

By the time Chris was on the last spank, Peter was moaning and humping Chris’ thigh. When Chris had discovered that Peter was hard, it only made his smirk grow.

“Twenty,” Peter moaned, still rutting desperately against him. Chris smiled and moved Peter to lie face down on the bed.

“Good boy. That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Chris asked, petting Peter’s slightly pinkish ass, watching with fascination as the marks faded.

“No, Mr. Argent.” he whined, humping the mattress. Chris chuckled.

“Want something boy?” Chris asked. He walked to stand on the right side of Peter. The boy turned his head and looked up longingly at Chris.

“Please Mr. Argent.” Chris’ eyes darkened.

“Please what?” Peter whimpered and buried his face in the mattress. Chris sighed and leaned over to deliver another smack to Peter’s ass.

“Please fuck me!” Chris grinned.

“That’s a good boy. And good boys get what they want.” Chris opened his nightstand and pulled out a tube of lube. The snick of the cap attracted Peter’s attention. He groaned when he saw what Chris was doing and got up on his knees, presenting his ass. Chris groaned.

“Such a good boy, Peter.” he praised. Peter wiggled his ass in delight, causing Chris to let out a small laugh. He walked back around to stand behind Peter’s ass. His lube-free hand came up to Peter’s left cheek and pulled it aside, exposing his fluttering hole. Chris’ eyes darkened as he brought a lubed finger to Peter’s hole and pushed it in gently. “Have you ever done this before boy?”

Peter groaned. “No Mr. Argent.” Christ stilled his finger.

“Are you a virgin, Peter?” he asked, beginning to stroke Peter’s cheek and lower back. 

“No Mr. Argent. I’ve had sex with girls and guys...but...I’ve never bottomed,” Peter explained, his voice almost nothing but a high-pitched whine.

“So you are a virgin?” Chris asked. “For what I’m about to do, you are a virgin?”

Peter blanched as Chris clucked his tongue. “Y-yes sir, Mr. Argent, sir.” Chris relished the little uptick of fear in Peter’s voice.

“I don’t approve of lying,” Chris began. “However, since you did not think it was a lie, and it wasn’t a full lie, I’ll let you off the hook.” Peter sighed in relief.

“Thank you Mr. Argent!” he said. Chris nodded his head and began preparing him again.

*.*.*

Moans were the only thing that could be heard in the Argent household. Luckily, Allison was on a date with Lydia and Erica and Chris could allow Peter to be as loud as he wanted.

“You think you’re ready for me boy?” Chris whispered into Peter’s ear. Peter moaned again as Chris’ fingers brushed over his prostate.

“Yes, please Mr. Argent!” Peter cried. Chris smirked and kissed Peter’s ear.

“Very well,” he said, pulling off of Peter’s back. As he removed his fingers, Peter whined and Chris chuckled. “Don’t worry Peter. You’ll be full again soon enough.” Peter keened at the promise. A moment later, Chris’ cock was lubed and pushing at Peter’s entrance. “Relax,” Chris commanded, both his hands in a vice-like grip on Peter’s hips. Peter took a deep breath and upon its release, Chris thrusted inside him, punching air back into Peter’s lungs. “Sh, sh,” he cooed, petting Peter’s back gently as the boy whimpered in a little pain. After what seemed like an eternity, Peter nodded his head against the sheets. “Was that the go ahead boy?” Chris asked, wanting to make sure.

“Yes Mr. Argent.” Peter answered, shuffling around a bit and spreading his knees more. Chris groaned as he sunk in deeper.

“Very well,” Chris said, smirk evident in his voice. He pulled out, leaving just the tip inside before plunging back in, shoving Peter up the mattress a bit. Peter whined and clawed at the sheets and Chris groaned. “So fucking tight,” he muttered, continuing with his fast pace. A cacophony of noise filled Chris’ bedroom, his own groans and grunts of pleasure mixing with Peter’s mewls, whines, and moans. “Such a good boy,” he praised, bending over Peter and supporting himself on his forearms. 

“T-thank you Mr. Argent!” Peter cried as Chris’ cock brushed over his prostate. Chris grinned and continued pounding that spot.

“Take my cock so well. So tight boy.” Chris cooed. Peter whined high in his throat.

“M-mr. Argent, may I come? Please please PLEASE!” Peter begged. 

“Only if it’s from my cock alo-” but Chris was cut off as Peter’s ass clenched tightly around him. Peter’s cum shot out onto his bedspread. Chris followed suit not a moment later, filling Peter’s ass to the brim.

*.*.*

The duo lay on the bed (minus the bedspread), Peter curled into Chris and Chris’ arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulders.

“Was it good?” Chris asked. He felt Peter smile against his chest.

“It was great Mr. Argent. Thank you.” Peter answered, curling his palm over Chris’ hip.

“You’re welcome. Are you going to listen to me now?” Chris asked. 

“Maybe...Mr. Argent.” Peter teased.


End file.
